CuRioSiTY (an Eyeless Jack Love Story)
by Schizophrenic.Phenomenon1907
Summary: Eyeless Jack saved Myra's life when she ran away from home. Myra didn't want to be involved with a cannibal, but she had nothing to live for outside of his cabin. The two inevitably became friends... and then something more. Jack should've killed her in the first place, but his curiosity got the best of him... and, in time, so did his hunger. Rated M for language, gore and abuse.
1. Chapter 1: Something Different

Hello FF.N readers! I know you guy have been waiting for the Eyeless Jack story I promised you! And here it is! Reason why this took so long: My plans for a one-shot became plans for a short-story XD. I still don't know where I'm going with this, but it's going to be longer than I'd planned (which isn't a bad thing). Eh, I'll think of something.

Just to forewarn you, this chapter is _extremely_ short compared to why I'm used to posting. I just wanted your opinions before I posted anything else I've already written. Not to mention, I wanted a good cliffhanger XD.

So, yeah. Please let me know if you do or don't like it, whether to continue or not, or any ideas you may have for future chapters. Other than that, enjoy!

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*****DISCLAIMER*****

**I don't own Eyeless Jack's character, nor Laughing Jack's, Slenderman's, or any other Creepypasta that may be added to this story later on. However, Myra (the OC) does belong to me. It's FanFiction, written purely for entertainment:)**

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**CuRioSiTY**: _The story of Eyeless Jack's first, and only, lost love_

Chapter 1: Something Different

_-Myra's P.O.V.-_

"I swear to God Pete, if you don't start paying child support I'll get the fucking feds on your ass... …A job!? You're telling me to get a fucking job? Uh, no thank you. We get by fine on welfare… No, not this time. No amount of 'favors' you do for me is going to cut it, though sometimes I do feel a bit lonely…"

Myra refused to listen to anymore; she knew the routine all too well. This was the part where her mother suggested her father come over, and if he "paid the right price" he wouldn't have to worry about the child-support.

Then Myra had to put on her headphones just to block out their noise.

It was something that usually happened once or twice a month and had been going on ever since Myra could remember. She wondered how she ever got through her childhood with her parents always fighting, her mother always angry and beating her, her stomach always empty. She hadn't been much of a troubled child, but now that she was 17 and could understand things a bit better, she wondered how she hadn't ended up physiologically scared. The memories were all blurry and bundled into one huge pile. She remembered the stinging pain of her mother's hand and the comments about how she was "worthless" and "a total mistake"… but she never remembered what the brutal punishment had been for. She remembered waking up some mornings with bruises and sore muscles. She remembered her teachers asking her where the scars had come from, and she always managed to get away with some made-up lie.

Usually she would just lay there with her headphones on full blast, thinking about her life. Sometimes she would cry and stay awake until dawn or until her father left. Then she would get up and go to school with little or no sleep.

But tonight would be different. Tonight Myra would try something she'd never succeeded in doing before.

She'd pack her stuff and run away. She'd stock her backpack with some money, her Mp3 player, and some other necessities; she'd hop out of her window and bolt for it. _Tonight is the night_, Myra told herself. _You won't chicken-out this time, Myra. You'll get out of this_ _hellhole._

She double checked her backpack and made sure she had everything she wanted. She grabbed her jacket, slipped on her age-old tennis shoes and climbed out of her first story window. Myra couldn't believe just how easy it was. She felt nothing as she walked toward the city. She didn't miss her mother, nor did she ever want to see her again. She didn't miss her house, because it was worn and beat up, anyway. She enjoyed the frigid night air, the feeling of freeness the open sky brought to her. She could do anything, be anyone in the world. All she had to do was keep walking.

But, before any of that happened, Myra decided she'd feed herself.

Myra walked the length it took to get to the nearest McDonald's. It was still early in the night, maybe nine o'clock, so no one was really suspicious of a lone teenage girl. She ordered a cheeseburger and some fries and was on her way.

She soon decided she'd find some place to sleep. She didn't want to check into a motel; that would be a waste of her money. In fact, she didn't want to be in the city at all. No lights, no power, she didn't need all that. She wanted a place where she could be alone in the quiet. Where no one would have to see her. Where no one could ever _find_ her.

_The forest_, Myra thought. _Aren't there some woods around here?_

She walked on with her McDonald's, still munching on the fries. Eventually she made it to the edge of a very thick woodland. It was so dark in there that she couldn't even see past the first row of trees. It was then that Myra had her first moment of hesitation. What the hell was she even thinking? How was she supposed to survive out here!? This was the wilderness, and as soon as her mother discovered she was gone, she would surely call the police. This had been a stupid idea. She should just turn back now.

_No! Do you remember what you said earlier? Any place is better than that hellhole! You are __**not**__ going back! You will walk in there and you will not come out until morning. Then you'll make it to the next city where no one will recognize you as a 'missing child.' You'll just keep going and going, never looking back! Do you understand me!? That's the plan; stick to it. _

So Myra, after a deep intake of oxygen, walked into the woods.

* * *

She'd been walking for quite a while, and it had only gotten darker. Her eyes had gotten used to it, though, and the least she could do was walk without running face-first into trees.

Myra was still lightly snacking on the last of her fries and hadn't touched the cheeseburger yet. The smell of it filled the air, tempting her, but she wouldn't. She'd save that for breakfast.

The wind was blowing her hair in her face, ruffling her clothes. It was lisping by her ears, almost whistling to her. The chill it brought to Myra's bones didn't bother her, it only added to her new-found feeling of freedom.

But then she thought she heard something.

A low growl. It was so close Myra stopped walking and stood completely still, terror consuming her. _That couldn't have been real… It was just the wind_, Myra told herself. _Pft, get ahold of yourself! There aren't any wolves out here. Ha! Keep walking._

But she only got two more steps in before she heard another snarl. It was even closer, right in front of her. There was no possible way that was the wind-

Suddenly, Myra was tackled to the ground by some huge, furry… _thing_. It growled and snapped at her bag of food. She panicked, but was pinned down by the creature and couldn't do anything to help herself. There was a bark, and the food was snatched away. In the same instance, many sharp prongs entered her lower arm. The pressure of it felt like it would crush her bone. Myra screamed out in pain, loud and shrill. The pressure disappeared, the sound of a pack of animals running away was heard, and then there was silence.

Myra lay there, whimpering and trembling. All she saw were the bright stars above her and the tree tops. Everything was dark and becoming blurry. The tears ran down Myra's face in time with the warm blood trickling down her arm.

_-Jack's P.O.V.-_

Jack had left "home" by dusk, and he was pretty sure he'd make it back before midnight if he kept going at the pace he was. It may have been dark, but Jack had walked through these woods so much he nearly had all the trees memorized. So he walked on, resisting the urge to whistle to fill the silence, and instead flipped his pocket knife in and out of its bolster.

Jack had come out of town empty handed this particular night, which didn't bother him all that much. He didn't kill _every_ night; he really didn't have to. He had weeks of stock at home, but fresh meat was always better. _Healthy_ meat. And all he'd seen tonight was a bunch of drunk, overweight teenagers. No, he wouldn't do it. He'd just go home and eat, they weren't worth the trouble.

Jack had almost made it to his destination when he heard a scream. It was _painful_, even making Jack cringe. It had been far, but not that far. Was someone else in the area? And by someone else, he meant someone like him. Slendy, for example, came to check up on him every once in a while. But he'd just left a month ago; he wouldn't be back so soon. Plus, Jack never knew Slends to let his victims go as far as screaming. No, this was someone else. _Something_ else.

Jack could've just ignored it, but his conscience got the best of him. Whether it was curiosity or concern, he didn't know, but he began running before he got a chance to think about it.

It wasn't long before he came upon shoe tracks in the dirt. They were extremely fresh, not even made an hour ago. _This must be it_, he thought to himself. _This is the trail_, and he began to follow it.

"Hello?" Jack yelled into the darkness as he ran. "Is anyone there?"

There was the sound of crying to his left.

Then he saw her.

A girl was lying on the ground, dirt all over her clothes. There was blood covering her arm and tears covering her face. He studied her features, observing her big brown eyes struggling to stay open. She had olive colored skin, and Jack could easily see the bruises, old scars, and fresh cuts all over her. Her long, thick brown hair was thrown everywhere.

He wondered what had happened to her, but then he realized how irrelevant that was. All that mattered now was what _would_ happen to her. As cliché as it sounds, her fate was in his hands. There were numerous things he could do to her and for her; she was so helpless. For example, it'd be too easy to kill her, drag her body home, and make her his dinner. That was the smartest option; and it would be Jack's usual move. Spare her the pain and just end it.

It'd be more interesting, though, to fix her up; help her. If Jack killed her now, he'd be forever wondering what exactly happened, how she got here, where all the bruises came from… All of these questions were racing though his head now, and they would nag at him for the rest of his life if he didn't find the answers. Though, if he helped her, she could easily tell him.

Jack's curiosity got the best of him. He _needed_ to know.

He moved to stoop next to her, examining her arm. She was lightly convulsing and sweating despite the cold. There was too much blood to clearly see her wound and she looked to be in shock.

"Hey, don't you pass out on me." Jack said, lightly tapping her face. "Can you get up and walk?"

"Who are you?" She slurred out.

"I'm no parametric, per se, but I'm the guy trying to save your life. Now get up and walk, it'll help you stay awake."

Jack inched a hand under her back and hoisted her upright, he then hooked his arm under the back of her knees and scooped her entire body up, cradling her.

"No, please…" She mumbled. "Please don't take me back home. I don't want to go back…"

She was speaking gibberish now, her lids had dropped. Jack sighed and flexed his eye sockets, his own version of rolling his eyes. She was in no condition to walk, looks like he was just going to have to carry her.


	2. Chapter 2: Bloody Messes

Hello FF.N readers! I'm glad to see the reviews saying you guys love it! It really means a lot to me! Seeing how much you guys enjoyed the start, I decided not to hesitate in posting the next installment. Just a warning: These chapters won't be nearly as long as my "Red Moon" chapters. Simply because I feel like this story needs to be paced and I also need time to think up my plot. And because I love to torture you all with cliffhangers;) I'm just evil like that XD. Just kidding, just kidding! I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 2: Bloody Messes

_-Myra's P.O.V.- _

When Myra woke up, her head was pounding. At first she thought she was back home and just waking up for a normal day of school, but then her vision cleared and she scoped her surroundings.

This wasn't her room.

She sat up in a panic, but soon regretted it when her headache worsened. She felt dizzy and sick to her stomach. Still, her vision focused and she studied the room she was in.

It was barely half the size of a dorm room. The small space was cluttered to say the least, piled high with books and CDs and movies. The faded, peach colored carpet was blanketed with random papers and articles. The twin-sized mattress Myra was in was pushed to the farthest corner of the room on the floor. There wasn't even a bed frame. It was springy and squeaked with her every breath, a tattered brown quilt serving as a blanket. Her pillow was old and there was nothing plush about it. Myra looked upwards, and saw all the lightly-colored paint was peeling, but otherwise the walls were bare. There was a tiny little window just above her head. This bedroom made Myra feel claustrophobic; like she was in a jail cell. She looked out the window to make herself feel better, taking deep breaths.

Myra had no idea where she was or how she'd gotten there. The sun was only just rising outside, the starry sky fading away. She only slightly remembered what had happened hours before: She'd been running away from home, walking in the woods when she was attacked. It was some group of animals, though Myra couldn't have begun to guess what. Then all was quiet, the night was frigid. She'd caught a glimpse of _blue_… an electric blue, nothing like the navy blue color of the night. She'd blacked out not long after hearing a voice.

Then she remembered her arm. Looking down at it, she saw it was heavily bandaged with white medical tape. Not to mention it hurt like a bitch. Who had fixed her? She wasn't in any kind of hospital! _Where the hell was she!?_

There was a light tap on the door in front of her, then the doorknob jostling.

Myra completely froze, holding her breath as a male walked in. He was tall, but maybe that was because she was sitting on the floor. He wore all black; black boots, black jeans, black jacket, black hood over his head, black leather gloves… everything except for his mask. Myra quivered at the sight of his nearly featureless façade. It was completely blue with no mouth and a barely-noticeable outdent to represent a nose. The eyes were tar-filled pits of _nothing_. And he seemed to be… crying. There was inky liquid coasting down his "cheeks." He had a very mysterious aura about him.

"Oh, so you're awake now." He said half-sarcastically. His voice was very masculine and deep.

Myra had forgotten how to speak. She was utterly terrified of this man... He literally had her cornered; he could do anything he wanted to her. She flinched when he stepped closer.

"Please… please don't." She begged.

He put his hands up innocently. "Hey, relax. I just came to change the bandages, that's all. I won't hurt you."

Myra said nothing as he slowly progressed forward. She had nowhere to run, so she figured she wouldn't try. Instead, she watched him sit on his knees next to her low bed. He produced a roll of medical tape and a few alcohol pads from his pocket. Myra extended her arm to let him do what he came to do so he could leave faster.

As he unbandaged the wound and examined it, he began to speak. "You're lucky it's not infected; that wolf could've had rabies or something."

Myra studied her arm, too, and saw it had been sewn up. He began to rub it down with the alcohol pads. She asked him, "It was a wolf that attacked me?"

"Must've been, there's a pack of them in these woods. Does your head hurt?"

"A little bit, yes… Are you the one who saved me?"

He snickered. "Had to carry you all the way back here and everything. Be thankful you passed out; you didn't have to sit through the stitching part."

He began to re-wrap with the new medical tape. Myra didn't know what to say, what to ask him next. She wanted to know as much about where she was and who he was as possible. But, at the same time, she didn't want to set him off. Was he a criminal? An escaped inmate? A murderer? There had to be some reason he was wearing a mask. Why else would he conceal his face? He wasn't savage; at least he didn't _seem_ so. He'd saved her life, as if that didn't speak for itself. And he wasn't mean, just cautious.

He'd finished and stood. "Well, I was expecting more questions out of you, but I guess you need your rest, huh? I'll bring you back some water for that headache."

Myra suddenly became bold, but maybe came off a little too harsh. She was scared; she didn't want him to think she was weak and helpless. "So, can I leave now? Or do I have to stay in '_emergency medical care central_?'"

He chuckled. "Goddamn, you're mean. Pft, and after all I've done for you! No one's asking you to stay; you can leave whenever you want. But, last I checked, girls who run away with their little pack of supplies and get lost in the woods don't have anywhere special to be. So, where the hell are you gonna go?"

Myra said nothing to answer his question. She just kept a tight face, forcing herself not to cry in front of him. He left after figuring out she wouldn't respond.

She didn't want him to bring the water.

* * *

Myra sat and thought about her situation. The room had become breathable, and her arm felt a little better, but her head still hurt. Is this where she wanted to stay? The blue-faced man had been right: She had absolutely no place to go. How would she even survive if she left? This man obviously had everything he needed! He was getting by just fine!

It was nonsense, thought, wanting to stay in a cabin in the woods with a mad man. Yes, that's where Myra had figured out she was. Looking out her window, she saw nothing but trees and dense forest. It couldn't have been far from where she was attacked, considering the man had carried her. All she wanted now was somewhere _else_ to be. Anywhere but this cramped room. He said she could leave whenever she wanted, but she was as much afraid of leaving as she was of staying. He wouldn't provide for her forever; eventually he'd kick her out, right? She had to develop some sort of plan for when she left, she refused to suffer the embarrassment of being forced out. Myra could at least sustain her pride, if nothing else.

Now it hurt to even think. She couldn't come up with a plan with a headache.

Fine. She would prove she could provide for herself. Myra didn't need someone to get water for her.

She got up, her body protesting. She ignored the throbs of pain and headed to the door the masked man had entered and exited through. Turning the knob and not expecting much, Myra escaped the cluttered prison.

Myra had anticipated fresh air, but what she'd gotten was the complete opposite. The stench made her eyes water. The air was sour and thin with oxygen. It hurt to inhale. The smell was metallic and heavy, almost like onions. Myra coughed and gagged, her vision blurred with tears for a moment. She whipped her eyes and observed the new space she was in.

It looked fine ahead. There were doors and a hallway to her right. One door was ajar, and she saw it lead to some sort of living room. It was as tiny as the bedroom, maybe smaller! No, none of this was the source of the odor. It had to be something else.

Panning to her left, Myra finally saw it. It was the gruesome kitchen. Nothing was white anymore, though Myra could tell the countertops, floor, and even the walls had been some shade of it before. There was _red_ to take its place. Splatters and splatters of fresh blood were on the walls, puddles of it on the countertops and floor. Some of it was drying, blackened "scabs" left behind. There were orange swirls, too, like someone's failed attempt to clean up the horrid mess. Pints and pints of _blood_… and then the baggies came into focus.

There were plastic zip-locking bags piled everywhere. Some were small, some were big, none were labeled, but they all had similar filling. There were stuffed to the brim with pink, veiny, moist with blood, squishy-looking contents. It was obviously flesh, but not only that, Myra could make out body parts amongst all the blood. Seemingly _human_ body parts. Intestines, livers, sets of lungs… but mostly kidneys. The entire center counter top was stacked with them.

Myra couldn't believe was she was seeing. People, hundreds of people… their blood mixed here, there innards were bagged here. Hundreds of people were dead because of… _the blue-faced man_. He'd done this, he had to have! Who was… _no_, not who. _What_ was he? What was _it_?

Myra, feeling dizzy, sank to the ground. She hugged her knees to her chest, not knowing what to do.

Then, she did the only thing she knew to express her jumbled emotions, her many needs, her overloaded brain.

She screamed in the hope that a hero would save her.

Over and over, Myra screamed.


	3. Chapter 3: Dilemmas

Hello FF.N readers! Now the waiting begins, because we've caught up to what I've written so far:( That's okay, school is almost out and I'll have more time than ever! I just hope this story isn't too boring for you right now, my brain is having a creative drought, lol. Thank you for all the support despite the lack of excitement! Enjoy!

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**Chapter 3: Dilemmas**

_-Jack's P.O.V.-_

Jack left the cabin in all confidence she wouldn't leave. He would be patient and wait for her to trust him, it wasn't a big deal. Besides, it would only prolong his fun. He doubted she would even leave the bedroom!

He hadn't even left to kill, just to walk and think. Why had he taking this girl into his care again? Oh, right, because of his stupid curiosity. Just thinking of that reminded him of how much he wanted answers. There were so many questions buzzing around in his head… But she was such a smart-ass! That would be a problem since Jack wasn't one to use force. He wouldn't torture the answers out of her; that just wasn't his style. Besides, it looked like she'd been through enough already. He hoped she was alright, though. Had he been too harsh on her? All he'd done was tell her the truth. But still, he could've been a bit kinder about it.

_And just why do you care?_ Jack began to question himself. _Hm? After you get your answers, you'll probably just kill her. She's already beat up, she has nowhere to go, and the place she ran away from probably wasn't that great, either. It'd be easier on her if you just ended it. _

Jack soon decided that's what he'd do. It was all some stupid game for his temporary entertainment. It'd be over soon and he'd be bored again. What the hell was he supposed to do with his life? He was always so-

"I smell heavy contemplation on you, Jack." A snarling, giddy voice sounded from in front of him. Jack stopped dead in his tracks and looked up. He came mask to elongated-cone-nose with a killer from the carnival. He had on overalls with a black and white striped shirt. He had his extremely long nails sharpened to a point, and he was so thin you could see his ribcage. His face was pale, his pitch-colored hair shaggy and greasy. He smiled, his shark-teeth grazing his blackened lips.

"Laughing Jack? What the hell are you doing here?" Eyeless Jack asked in bewilderment.

"I sensed a stir. Came to check it out, wondering if it was anything that would interest me." He laughed psychotically.

"Well, there's nothing, as usual. So go home."

"Oh really? Then why do I smell human on you, Eyeless One? And no blood? Don't be foolish, it's obviously been a while since you've killed."

"And why does that concern you? It's none of your business."

"True, but then again, I'm not always one to keep to my own."

Just then there was a scream. Eyeless Jack already knew it was the girl, and he inwardly groaned. He and the killer clown shared a look, and then both of them took off racing.

_-Myra's P.O.V.- _

Myra had sat in a corner and pulled her knees up to her chest, rocking back and forth. Her frustration was making her face heat up. She felt stuck, like she was at a dead end.

She hadn't sulked for long enough when she heard feet running toward the house. She didn't have time to process the sound before the door was thrown open, and a ragdoll-looking clown man burst in. Myra squeaked and he spotted her, showing a set of razor-sharp teeth. He was next to her in the blink of an eye, and he wrapped his huge hand around her neck and jerked her up into a standing position. He pulled her against him, her back to his chest, and held her firmly there.

"Don't you dare touch her!" The masked man yelled as he ran in.

"Too late for that!" The clown man giggled. "What's it to you if I kill her, huh?"

The blue-faced one had drawn a pocket knife and was positioned in the doorway like an animal about to attack. "Let. Her. _Go_."

"Oh, Jack… Why keep one? They're nothing but trouble, trying to escape and what not. I'm doing you a favor! Or… would you be hurt? Aw, do you have feelings for her?"

His hot breath was blowing right on Myra's neck; she shivered and struggled against him. He only held her tighter, and she felt his tongue glide across her shoulder, up her neck, and trace around her ear. She whimpered helplessly while he murmured, "I'm sure there's plenty of candy back at the carnival, my dear-"

"That's enough!" The armed one took a step closer. "You've had your fun-"

"Stop kidding yourself! What gives you victim rights to her, anyway?"

"I found her and saved her life, that's what! What makes you think you can just take her from me!?"

The clown threw Myra to the ground and stood, laughing. "You _saved_ her _life_!? Hahahahaha! That proves it! You _do_ care for her!"

"No, I-"

"Well, if you didn't, you would've just killed her on the spot, wouldn't you have? You're pathetic! There's no hope for you! Doesn't she know what you are!? She'll never want to stay with you! Besides, she's already seen the kitchen!"

At this, the masked man was silent. Myra stared at both of them, waiting for something to happen; she felt useless to take any action.

The clown snickered in triumph. "Well, I guess I'll give her _time_ to realize what she's gotten herself into, simply because I'm nice." His eyes slithered their way to Myra again, and she jerked her eyes away from him. He chuckled. "Just wait until Slendy hears about this-"

"You _wouldn't_!" The masked man was obviously fed up with this. He rushed the ragdoll figure, blade raised. The clown just stood there, unintimidated. Myra continued to watch both of them, unable to do anything.

The knife never made contact with the clown.

As soon as the blue-faced man sliced downward, the clown man _disappeared_. He literally became a vapor. Myra drew in a surprise gasp when he rematerialized a few feet back from where he had been standing.

"Relax, okay? I said I'd give you time. However, if you'd like to see less of my generosity, I suggest you try that again. Otherwise, I'll go without trouble."

"_Please_." The masked man said with a clenched jaw. The clown sarcastically bowed, and made his way to the door.

Myra didn't watch him go, she was too afraid to make eye contact. She didn't know what to do; she wanted to cry and scream and rip her hair out all at the same time, but her body wouldn't respond to her emotions. She was in too much shock.

She numbly stood, staring at the ground. Which door should she run for? The door to the outside and get lost again? Or the door to the bedroom and continue to be stuck here? She tried not to let the masked man see her shaking, as she was aware that he was staring at her, waiting for her to make a move.

Myra didn't know what to do. Her chin quivered and her eyes blurred over. _No… No! Not here, not now…_ She tried to force herself not to cry. _Not in front of him; you can't let him see your weakness._ She was already biting her tongue, and now she held her breath.

"Are you okay?" The masked man asked. He took a step toward Myra, and she jerked back violently.

"Don't touch me." She hissed. The tears she couldn't bear to hold back any longer spilled over, and she didn't even bother to wipe them away. She was on the edge of a mental breakdown; she'd had countless before. They were a frequent occurrence, random episodes where Myra sat in her room and cried about how pitiful her life was. About how she wished she'd wake up from this nightmare already, or that she'd fall asleep and never wake to see the light of day again. She wished she could be another person, trade lives with somebody. She wished she had the guts to kill herself, or that someone would do it for her.

Myra wished lots of things, but she wished nothing more than to have someone there to hold her and listen to her babble on for hours as she cried. Whether it be her mother, father, best friend, or _anybody_, Myra imagined things would be the tiniest bit better if she weren't so alone.

The tears kept coming as she stood there, wanting to run. She'd do anything to get out of this man's sight right now, and him being frozen and just staring was making it worse. Her shoulders shook, and her throat lurched with the need to sob. Her effort was vain now, he'd seen enough to know she was crying. It was pointless to go run and hide, yet Myra still wanted to. She just wanted to be alone so she could cry about _not_ wanting to be alone in peace.

Myra finally wiped her eyes and spoke, "You can stop staring now; we both know I'm crying."

He unthawed and whispered, "I know, but… Wh-what do you want me to do?"

Myra couldn't hold back her sarcastic laughter. "Pft, you've done enough! Why can't you just leave me alone!? Or, better yet, try explaining what's going on?"

Jack slumped his shoulders and shook his head, "It's… it's complicated-"

"You know what? Forget it. Thanks for the bandages and everything, but I'm leaving."

Myra had made her decision; she just couldn't bear to stay here anymore. What with killer clowns and bags of intestines, who could blame her? She'd rather die out there than in here. She made her way for the door, longing for the fresh air to clear her head.

"Hey! Wait!" The masked man followed her. "I don't even know your name yet!"

"Why would you need to!?" Myra said, not stopping.

"Look, I promise, if you stay, I'll explain everything."

"What if I don't want to know?"

"Do you really want to spend the rest of your life wondering?"

At this, Myra slowed to a halt. If she did walk away now, she would never know. If she died today or tomorrow or in three days… She'd never know. Maybe she really was running too far ahead of herself, jumping to conclusions. Maybe he meant no harm. He hasn't hurt her yet… Maybe he really did care about her.

Her curiosity got the best of her.

"Were you ever actually going to get me that water?" Myra asked. He laughed.

"I forgot, but there's beer back at the house."

"That works."


End file.
